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Fuck Pierre's

Summary:

What's a soldier to do when he returns from war and discovers the local shopkeeper fucked his wife? Revenge fuck that guy's daughter of course.

Notes:

This one-shot takes place in the early chapters of Come Home to Me (Kent's story) and just after Chapter 7 of Big Girls Don't Cry (Abigail's story).

I kept character names but changed location names.

Blue Star Mart = Joja Mart
Brightstar Valley = Stardew Valley
Santa Lucia = Pelican Town
Lucidae = Zuzu City

San Rigel is a city 500 miles south.
Freshfield is a town midway between Santa Lucia and San Rigel.

Vega Desert = Calico Desert
Carina Island = Ginger Island
Still a Work in Progress as of Friday April 17. I hope to finish off this weekend.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Year 2, Spring

Tuesday

Jodi was at Pierre’s. “Exercising.” The twig in Kent’s hands snapped. He could feel his blood rising as he imagined the sleazy shopkeeper laying hands on Kent’s wife. Only the lowest of men, an opportunistic snake could slide into the empty bedside left by a soldier serving his nation. That motherfucker. Literally fucked the mother of his children. Still seething, he noticed a movement in the corner of his yard. In his peripheral. One o’clock. A girl was rooting around in the grass, bent over far enough that the scrap of fabric she pretended was a skirt couldn’t even keep up the ruse, exposing a sweetly rounded bare ass to the sky. Wagging at him as a little piece of purple lace flossed itself into the most fuckable slit Kent had laid eyes on in a while. Well since last week at least. When he’d beaten himself raw to images of it on his computer. Abigail. Pierre’s little girl. All grown up. And also dating Kent’s son. Fuuuuuck.

How old was she now? He recalled remnants of family dinner weeks ago when Jodi berated Sam for skipping community college classes while Abigail already had her fancy university degree. Old enough.

If it weren’t for Sam, Kent knew he could be on her in an instant. 10 paces. He was already half hard. Would be full mast by the time he crossed the yard. Could ram up inside and unload in 5 pumps. Have her squealing like a stuck piglet. Crying for her papa. “Fuck you Pierre.”

“Huh?”

Kent hadn’t realized that he’d spoken out loud. Abigail whirled about and was looking right at him. Her eyes widened when she noticed his obscenely massive erection.

~~~

Abby had never lost an egg hunt. She’d missed this year’s while on spring break with Sam, getting vigorously fucked in the tropical surf and glittering sand of Carina Island. But she knew that Gus always hid one egg here and it was often overlooked. The little girl in her still desired victory–to close her fist around a sun-warmed prize, then pop the shell and let the creamy hot treat inside melt over her tongue, roll it around until it coated her mouth…down the back of her throat…ooooh…

A man behind her. She jolted upright. Sam’s father. Disconcertingly close. An unreadable look on his stern face. But a very understandable albeit somewhat threatening missive in his pants. For her?!? Kent had always been a devoted husband to Little Miss Perfect Jodi. A heroic father figure for Sam and Vincent. Abby had classified him as a Respectable Adult when she was a child and thus sidelined him from her adolescent mind. Now that old label fell away and left a charged energy in the empty space between them. A thrill crackled across her body, jerking her tits to attention and liquifying her pussy. 

“Mr Westwood!” 

~~~

Kent winced. She was too young. Had addressed him the way one speaks to an elder. Was standing there looking up at him with the expression of a child who had been caught red-handed. Guilty. Hiding something behind her back. Naughty. A bad little girl with a big old bottom that had beckoned him across the yard for a spanking. A pouty little thing with perky fresh tits that stood at attention. As hard as his cock. 

“What do you have there, Abigail?”

She gulped, sending a jiggle across her fleshy breasts and an ache into his chest. She held out her hand, palm up, to reveal a forgotten easter egg. A plastic orange orb filled with cheap chocolate. A holiday goody prized by Vincent. God she was still a child. Pierre’s child. Caroline’s body. Full figured and ready for a man. Heat coming off her so thick that it distorted the air between them, air that was now perfumed with the scent of her desire. His skin tingled and the hair on his arms rose up in reaction to the animalistic need humming through her small frame. Predatory lust coursed through him. This was all wrong. Sinful. Kent groaned deeply. The hell with it. He was already damned anyway.

~~~

He enclosed her entire hand and wrist with one large palm. Yanked her against him. Her swollen tits rubbed up against a solid wall of Man. Not a flighty boy with a crush on Abby’s mommy. A Real Man. Experienced. Hardened. Unyielding. His forbidding intractability generated a delirium within her. Abby felt a rising desperation to drive herself into him. Over and over. Smashed into oblivion against him. By him. He would be fast. Rough. Destructive.

His grip tightened, cracking the plastic in between them. “Ouch! You’re hurting me.” But she didn’t pull away. She pressed back against him. Something dangerous flared in his eyes.

~~~

Fuck. This devil child was dangerous. He recognized the intoxicating cocktail–fear, pain, pleasure. So much pleasure. Fuck. It was too late. They were going to lose the game because she had already broken the rules. With her dirty videos and her short skirt and her full lips and her little o-shaped mouth and those big aqua eyes locked in on his and that wet little tongue tip flitting out a moist invitation. She had lured him to temptation. A snake like her father. Fuuuuuck.

Kent crushed his mouth against hers. So baby soft. She would bruise. Good. Look what she had driven him to do. Out here in the open where anyone in this suffocating town could see him. A grown man violating a little girl. Soiling Pierre’s family like he’d done to Kent’s. “I’m going to punish your baby.”

~~~

Some verbal cognition stirred in what little was left of Abby’s cogent mind. Had he called her his baby? “Oh yes, Daddy. Teach me a lesson, Daddy.”

~~~

His cock throbbed at her strange words. Kent was a good man. A god fearing man. A family man. This was wrong. He wasn’t her father. Pierre was her father. She said it again. “Do it, Daddy.” His hips reactively snapped into her softness. Why did this feel oh so right. Kent was just a man. Flesh and bone. “That’s right. Poor thing. Pierre is a shitty man. I’ve got you now. Say that again.”

“You like that, Daddy? You’re my Daddy now. You’ll take good care of me, won’t you Daddy?” The audacious little brat started riding his thigh. Filthy girl soaked right through his khakis. She gnawed on his bottom lip.

“Fuuuck. You’re a hungry one aren’t you? Open wide. Daddy’s gonna feed his baby.” 

~~~

A glob of chocolate was shoved into her mouth. Along with a thick calloused thumb. Abby slobbed at both greedily. Wildly. Her tongue twisted, chasing chocolate and swabbing at the invading digit. He pressed in further; She choked, spurting tears and spittle and pussy juice all at once. Fuck I’m about to come and he’s barely touched me yet. Why were the most fucked up men so good at this? She humped furiously against his tree trunk of a leg as her lips pursed around his fat thumb, sucking noisily as she kept pace. An angry whine mounted inside of her. Cmon Abby. Almost there. Keep going. He’ll give it to you. He has what you need. Take it.

~~~

Kent looked down at the creature. Mewling and clawing and clapping her wet lips against him. A blind kitten in a rage. 

“Help me, Daddy. I want it so badly. I need it. Give it to me, Daddy.”

He placed her hand on his engorged cock. “This? Is this want you want?”

“Yes, Daddy. Please. Fuck me, Daddy. Make me cum.”

Good God she was going to make him jizz in his pants before he’d even really touched her. He popped his thumb out of her filthy mouth and swept her up in one easy motion. She was so small he could cradle her with one arm. “We’re going inside to clean you up, Baby.”

“Okay, Daddy.”

Notes:

Comments with compliments or constructive feedback are always welcome. Read more about Daddy. Follow Baby.

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